Dust Stars
by ArlineTardisKalliope
Summary: 1930's AU River/Doctor I can't write summaries to save my life.


Fifteen-year-old River Kovarian had a fairly decent life as the daughter of a policeman and a fairly comfy apartment in New York City. This was pretty impressive, given that it was the height of the Great Depression. Melanie was certainly very lucky.

She hated it.

She hated the stupid apartment that smelled like the old lady who had previously occupied it. She hated the fact that everyone thought that she was rich because she wasn't starving. She hated school. And most of all she hated her stupid drunk father.

River wanted adventure. She wanted to trek through the jungles of the Amazon, or ride across the desert, or maybe go to war like her uncle John. Instead, she was stuck in a tiny corner of an enormous city, making coffee for her father, who wouldn't even let her play Cowboys and Indians with the boys in Central Park five years ago.

So when her father announced that he'd been fired, and they were moving to Oregon to live with some wealthy relatives she'd never heard of, she thought maybe this could be the start of something new and different. Something more interesting than her little corner of a big city.

"Get your suitcase River, the taxi's here"

"On my way." _Goodbye, smelly old apartment. Goodbye, grumpy landlord. Goodbye, loud neighbors._

River rushed down the stairs into the waiting cab, suitcase in hand.

"Hello."

River looked up from her copy of _Brazilian Adventure_ into the biggest amber eyes she'd ever seen. The boy's hair was dark brown and a little bit messy. His face was sharp and handsome, but still boyishly cute, and his shy smile looked like a ten-year-old talking to a girl for the first time.

"Eh—ah-um." Words failed her.

"My pencil rolled under your feet. Do you mind?"

"Oh, not at all."

She lifted her feet and the pencil rolled out from behind them. He bent over to pick it up, giving her an excellent view of his tousled hair. He tucked it into his jacket pocket and smiled at her.

"Thank you"

"What for?"

"Not stepping on my fingers while I picked up my pencil."

"Well, you're welcome"

"What's your name?"

"River Kovarian. And you?"

"John. John Smith."

"See you in Oregon then, John."

The train pulled to a halt, and River closed her book.

"We can't be there yet."

"We're not. Four hour stopover for the train to refuel and the crew to have lunch. Passengers can get off and sightsee." piped John over the seat.

"Well it'd be nice to stretch my legs for a bit, but what is there to do in what looks like a North Dakota farm town?

"I guess you'll find out, because there's no way I'm leaving my personal bag unattended, so go."

River ripped her paper bookmark into two pieces. One she stuck back in the book, on the other she wrote: _Gone out. Stay here with our things._ and stuck it on her snoring father's jacket. Then she got up, walked to the door, and stepped out.

The first thing she noticed was that there was no grass. Not one single inch of vegetation. Just dust. The second thing she noticed was a poster advertising the Flying Elephant Traveling Show.

_Well that might be fun, I've never been to a traveling show._

"You want your fortune told, miss?" said a middle-aged woman with black hair tied in a bun behind her head and a few worn peacock feathers stuck in it.

"No thanks, I'm saving money."

"Only a quarter, miss."

"Alright."

Entering the dimly lit fortune-telling tent, she took a seat in the closer of two chairs facing each other over a low table. The feathery lady took the opposite seat.

"Let me see your hand"

"Ah, this is good. You meet your soulmate early in life. Perhaps you have already met, even. And here! Inspiration, twice. Once from an unlikely source. Oh dear, conflict. Close conflict, with someone you know. Ah, that's better. Family. New family. A broadening of the mind. And here…"

"What?"

"It's very difficult to interpret. Conflict, but it extends beyond you, to something much greater. In men and boys it means that they will be soldiers. I've never seen it in a girl or woman in all my life.

"And after that?"

"The lifeline splits. Either you live a long healthy life, get married, have a windfall, and have twin daughters or you die soon after."

"Well this has been interesting. Here's your quarter."

"No, that was so fascinating, it would be wrong to accept money. A war line, on a girl's palm. Never seen anything like it. Highlight of my career. Keep your quarter."

As River exited the tent, she found herself overwhelmed by light and sound.

"STEP RIGHT UP, LADIES AND GENTS, AND SEE THE AMAZING SHARPSHOOTING SALLYYY LIGHTNIIIING!

A twenty-something blonde woman in a ten-gallon hat holding a revolver in each hand stepped up onto a red and white pedestal, which elevated her over the crowd. Someone tossed up a marble. There was a movement as quick as a snake strike, a loud bang, a faint tinkle of shattering glass, and the marble was no more.

The audience cheered, and suddenly more things were flying up into the air, corks and dice and cigarettes and all sorts of small things, and Sally was shooting them all, and the audience looked at her with a look that was amazement and fear and awe and respect and a thousand other things besides.

Then River realized _I want people to look at me like that. I want to be amazing, frightening, awe-inspiring, respected. _Sally Lightning bowed to the cheering audience, turned and walked away.

. Back on the train, she wondered about what she had seen. About the fortune-teller's predictions, that seemed strangely accurate. She would have new family soon, and how could that be just a lucky guess? About Sally Lightning, how she captured the audience, terrifying them and entrancing them, and how she seemed to even earn the respect of the men.

And then she sat back in her seat, relaxed, and buried herself in a book.

_Oregon is so __green__. _River thought as she looked out the window of the train into a forest of the tallest, mossiest trees she'd ever seen. Suddenly the trees gave way to buildings and the train station rushed into view. Scrambling off the train, grabbing their luggage, and rushing onto the sidewalk outside, River didn't even realize she'd forgotten to say goodbye to John. A horn blared deafeningly and stopped them, and everyone else in their tracks. A sleek luxury car pulled up in front of them and a forty-year-old woman in a long fox-fur coat and white cloche hat leaned out of the window and sweetly said "Need a ride?"

"My head, you madwoman!"

"If you wouldn't drink so much, it wouldn't bother you."

"And you are?"

"I'm Amelia Pond, but you can call me Aunt Amy."

"Was that you blowing the horn?"

"Certainly. I drive my own car. Put your suitcases in the trunk, climb in the back, and let's go home."

"Your house is enormous!" said River as the car pulled up in front of a red brick mansion.

"River, if you work hard and maybe get lucky, you could have one just like it. You're certainly clever enough. Don't let anyone tell you that you can't just because you're a girl."

"We're going hunting, would you like to join us?" asked River's cousin Rory.

"Why not, I've never been. Not exactly much hunting in New York City, except job hunting."

"So what exactly are we hunting for?"

"Grouse, mostly. But if you see a Canada goose, that's good too."

"Alright." River selected the most manageable-looking shotgun and joined her cousins on the well-worn game trail.

"Shhhhh." Her cousin Craig pointed at a small brown shape moving across the forest floor. "Yours"

River fixed the grouse in her vision, raised her gun, and fired.

"You got it! I can't believe it. Your very first try and you got it." Rory yelled wildly.

_So I'm not useless. Or defenseless. Aunt Amy was right; I can do anything a boy can do. _

That night they had oven-roasted spruce grouse with rosemary for dinner. And it was delicious.

Portland was not exactly New York City, but it did at least have a movie theater. Leaving an afternoon showing of _The Invisible Man,_ River looked up and saw that it was raining.

_And I forgot to bring my umbrella. Wonderful. _ Suddenly there was an umbrella over her head.

"Hello, River." said a familiar soft voice.

"John!"

"I thought I might run into you here."

"You've been looking for me?"

"I came out here to join a friend of mine. He's a pilot. I thought you might like to have a look around at the airfield."

"Oh, yes, absolutely."

"TAXI!"

"…and this is my favorite. I call her Astrid."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause."

"Can we go up?"

"If you want to."

"Oh, yes."

"Hop in, then."

River gripped the doorframe with both hands for balance, and then jumped up into the cockpit. John followed, taking a seat in the captain's chair, and motioned to the copilot's seat for her. She sat down and looked out the window into a glorious sunset.

"Ready?"

River nodded. John began cranking the starter as fast as he could, stopping once the engine cut in. He taxied the plane out onto the runway and started picking up speed. River felt her stomach doing a happy dance when the plane left the ground. They settled at about 1000 feet. She looked out the cockpit window and spotted her house in the distance. Down in Portland, lights were flicking on. Then she looked up and gasped.

The stars were so bright; they turned the sky deep blue. Their light blazed through the veil of the night, and she felt as if she could touch them. And the glorious moon, bigger and clearer and brighter than she'd ever seen it.

"Where would you like to go?"

"To the Amazon jungle. To Mount Everest. To the Sahara desert. Anywhere."

"And then?"

"To the craters of the Moon. To the rings of Saturn. To the Milky Way. Everywhere."

"Adventure?"

"I want it!"

"Danger?"

"I need it!"

"Me too, River. Me too."

She threw her arms around him and pulled him into a passionate embrace.

"Let's fly away. No one could stop us from doing something we wanted, or make us do something we didn't want. Ever."

"Freedom."

"Living life as life should be lived! 'The function of man is to live, not to exist.' as Jack London once said."

"We're running away from something we can't run away from."

"Nothing's impossible."

"But we can't run forever."

She kissed him full on the mouth. "So?"

"We'll run out of fuel before we outrun reality."

"Land, then."

"Goodbye, John."

"Goodbye, River."

The taxi door closed behind her, and the taxi pulled off. _Well, back home for me. Back to the ground. _She went up to the door, but before she could knock, it opened; and she found herself looking into her father's snarling face.

"WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE BRAT!"

"Get out of my way, you stinking old drunk."

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK TO ME LIKE THAT; YOU'VE BEEN OUT WITH A BOY, YOU STUPID SLUT!"

"Get. Out. Of. My. Way."

"WE'RE LEAVING UNTIL YOU LEARN TO BEHAVE YOURSELF, LITTLE GIRL, AND LEARN THE WAY OF THINGS!"

"No."

"WHAT WAS THAT!?"

"No."

"YOU LISTEN HERE–"

"NO, YOU LISTEN! EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE I'VE HAD TO DEAL WITH YOUR DRUNKEN BULLSHIT! NOW I'VE GOT A CHANCE AT SOMETHING BETTER, AND YOU AND YOUR STUPID CONTROLLING WAYS ARE NOT GOING TO RUIN IT FOR ME!" Melanie lashed out with her left leg. It hit him squarely in the solar plexus. He fell to the floor with a resounding thud. For a few seconds they stared at each other in white-hot rage. Then the balance of power shifted, and silently he got up, walked out the door, and kept on walking until the night swallowed him like a bitter pill.

"That was the most remarkable thing that I have ever seen, in my life."

"Aunt Amy! You were watching?!"

"About to throw him out of my house for the way he spoke to you, but then you accomplished it for me, and with infinitely more force than I could ever muster."

"I get the feeling that you're not just talking about the kick."

Aunt Amy smiled. "Let's go to bed. It's been a long day."

_Four Years Later_

"River, John's at the door."

"Coming, Mama."

River slid down the banister, past her 'brothers' Craig and Rory, straight into the atrium.

"Hello, sweetie."

"Hello, River. Ready for college?"

"Just another adventure."

"Especially if you're studying astronomy, like me."

"You picked your major, I picked mine. No complaints."

"Yes, but really, archaeology?"

"I like old things and brand new things. Archaeology is using new things to discover old things. What could be better?"

"To each their own, I suppose. Come on, River, the taxi's waiting."

"Let's go then."

"Adventure."

The End Or not…


End file.
